


Distraction

by edie22



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-04-04
Updated: 2002-04-04
Packaged: 2017-11-01 08:07:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/354172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edie22/pseuds/edie22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wondered what Clark might do if not revealing his powers might cause him to do something extreme.  I tried this.  They both needed a distraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distraction

## Distraction

by edie

<http://www.geocities.com/edielynne/slash.html>

* * *

Distraction  
~~++~~  
Pete stirred the liquid in the beaker a little too quickly. It sloshed over the side and ran down the outer walls of the glass, collecting at the bottom to form a small puddle of goo. Clark and Pete both looked at it and then each other. Pete let go of the stirring rod and reached to move the beaker. 

Remembering Mr. Hawes' instructions to never touch the liquid, Clark shot his hand out to stop Pete from doing any damage. Unfortunately, Clark's aim was a hair off; even though he knocked Pete's hand out of the way, he still ended up knocking the beaker off balance. In the seconds that followed, they watched the beaker wobble and then slip and crash to the counter below. The liquid splashed in a small wave over Clark's still outstretched hand and covered it completely. 

It felt like water. 

Pete cried out his name in alarm and then a whisper, filled with confusion. "Clark?" 

Mr. Hawes had looked up when Pete had cried his name and was walking over. 

"Clark? How did...How come your hand is fine? That stuff spilled on you." 

Clark held his hand close to his chest, his mind working frantically, trying to come up with something. Anything. Adrenaline wasn't going to work this time. 

Pete, still half in shock, reached out to touch Clark's hand. He jerked back in panic and stumbled backwards. "I don't know, Pete. Maybe we did the experiment wrong?" He turned to the sink and quickly rinsed his hand off, but then the cry of pain behind him made him wince. Pete had touched the compound. Clark turned around and watched Pete stare at his own hand. He didn't know what to do. 

Pete looked up at him, pain on his face that was probably not all about his hand. "Clark, I think we did this right. How come you're fine and I'm not?" 

Clark stared at Pete's injury, trying to guess the extent of it. Would it heal? Would Pete blame him for it forever? 

And then Pete was surrounded by Mr. Hawes, and some of the other students. He had no idea how badly Pete was hurt, but he couldn't stick around to find out. Clark took a few steps back and made his way out of the room. Down the hall, he was almost out. 

Cornfields were his friends and zipping through them was easy. The only thing that filled his mind was the horror of letting Pete get hurt. Just because he was protecting his secret. He could have told Pete a million times. Any one of those moments could have saved Pete the pain that was ultimately his fault. How was he supposed to explain now? 

Chloe was going to need an explanation now, too. And Lex. Could he really deal with all of the questions? The looks in his friends' eyes? Betrayal? Confusion? Fear? No way he could face that. 

His dad was in the fields and his mom in her garden; no one saw him. Grabbing necessities, he did the only thing he could think of. He left. The note on the table for his parents was short and he knew they'd worry but he couldn't think about that. The need to leave, to get as far away from questions he couldn't answer, filled him. It was the only thing he could deal with. The rest was too much. 

It had only taken him a few seconds to decide that Metropolis was too close. He ended up on the outskirts of Gotham, the only other major city he'd ever even visited. He had been here once with his dad for some livestock convention. 

He called his mom from a gas station pay phone. Mom was much calmer than he expected. Apparently Pete had come by and explained what had happened in class. Between that and the note, his parents understood why he had gone. His mom asked him to come home, said that they would work it out, that they'd think of something. Clark just closed his eyes and said, "Mom, I love you guys, but I do nothing but cause problems. I'll call when I can. I'm fine. Really." And with that he hung up. 

He'd been hired at a club. Clark had to eat, after all, and the couple of hours he'd been gone wasn't anywhere near enough time. He'd lied his way into working security. It wasn't a problem. The women that came to the club were mostly older, pleasant. Just there to watch the dancing. Of course, the occasional party of rowdy twenty-somethings showed up, but even they weren't too bad. 

He hung out with Lizzy, the owner, that first night. She was sloppy drunk and kept trying to kiss him. Clark wasn't exactly sure what to do and was very grateful when she finally passed out. He covered her with a light blanket that he found on the back of the couch and slipped out of her apartment over the club. 

He found himself walking up and down the streets, searching for a motel, One that wouldn't ask questions. He found it on his third try. After paying for the night and locking the door, he curled up on the thin mattress and tried not to think. But tears filled his eyes, spilled down his cheeks and soaked the pillow. He finally cried himself to sleep. 

Clark's dad answered the phone the next morning. His voice was gruff and parental. Clark almost agreed to go home when his dad asked, but the memory of pain on Pete's face and the fear of explaining things to his friends stopped that thought. He apologized again and hung up. He didn't say where he was or make any promises. 

The club was busy that night. Giggling women lined up to show their licenses to Clark. They smiled, and several asked if he was dancing. Every time he blushed and shook his head. 

After the line had thinned a bit, Lizzy caught his eye and motioned him over. He passed the clipboard to the other security guy and went to see what she needed. She was crying by the time he got across to her. "What's wrong?" Clark asked. 

"Antonio called in sick and one of my biggest private clients will be here tonight," she sobbed. "I don't have any replacement dancers. My client is not going to be happy." 

Clark sighed and tried to think of a solution. "What about Kyle?" He pointed at the guy he'd just handed the clipboard to. 

Lizzy shook her head and answered, "He won't. I don't know what I'm going to do." 

Crying always got to Clark. He put his arm around her shoulders and sighed. "Ok. I'll do it. But only tonight. And I'm not taking off my clothes." 

A couple of hours later, he still wasn't sure why or how he'd agreed to do this. Clark glanced down at the too-tight frayed denim shorts and the white tank top covered by a tattered red flannel and sighed heavily. He tugged on the boots and stood up. Glancing in the mirror, he shook his head. He looked ridiculous. 

The door opened and Lizzy walked in. She swept his body with her eyes and nodded in approval. "You look great!" 

"I don't. I look stupid." He tugged at the flannel and twisted a corner of the fabric in his fingers. 

She shook her head. "No. Honey, you look great." Shooting him a speculative glance, she asked, "Can you dance?" 

"Kind of," he answered, then shrugged. "I can when I'm by myself in my loft at home." 

Lizzy nodded. "Just follow the music. Don't do anything too elaborate and don't get too close to the edge of the stage. You'll hear Zach announce you onto and off the stage." 

"How long do I have to be up there?" His nerves were starting to get to him. 

"Only a few minutes. Five tops. Doesn't sound too bad, right?" 

Clark shook his head and turned back to the mirror. "Are you sure I look okay?" 

She let out a little chuckle and patted his jean-clad rear. "You'll do fine." She pushed him out of the dressing room and towards the stage entrance. 

The music pulsed, the lights flashed. He swayed in what he hoped was a rhythm. The screams and clapping barely dulled by the pounding bass. 

Through the strains of the heavy beat, Clark could make out a vaguely familiar country song. He couldn't quite place it, but he tried to move to the quick beat. He was sure his face was bright red. There were so many women just * _looking_ * at him. He could feel their eyes even if he couldn't actually see their faces. 

The seconds ticked by and he moved across the stage, swinging his hips. He felt like he'd been up there for hours when he finally heard Zach's voice calling him "Farm fresh" for his cue to exit the stage. The screaming carried him off the stage. 

~~++~~ 

His secret guilty pleasure brought him to the club. Money got him exclusive use of a private room. Men weren't technically allowed, but exceptions were made, of course. Exceptions were always made for Lex. 

He'd wanted distraction from Smallville. A couple of days away from the plant, the castle, his father, everything. He came here because they didn't know him. The manager only knew that she'd been paid an obscene amount of money for this room. 

But he'd needed the most distraction from his own thoughts. His mind wouldn't let him concentrate. His own thoughts were betraying him. 

He couldn't concentrate on any of the dancers. He was sure they were great. Probably gorgeous. But none of them compared to what was in his thoughts. 

Sighing, he looked back through the two-way mirror that covered one wall. His jaw dropped. Had his mind conjured the image? He rubbed his eyes and looked again. What in God's name was Clark doing? Dancing on that stage in those cut off shorts and...were those cowboy boots? 

He couldn't blink. The man on the stage had to be a look-alike. Too many of those around. That couldn't be Clark. The double on the stage was taking off his flannel. His arms were amazing. Wonderfully sculpted... 

He strayed from staring at the body and saw the eyes. Fear and embarrassment and determination filled them. How could that be Clark? Why? 

When the dance ended, Lex tore himself away and pressed the button that called the manager to him. After a few minutes, there was a light, timid knock at the door and she entered. "Yes, sir? Can I help you? Is everything all right?" 

"Who was that last dancer?" Lex demanded. 

"Oh, I'm sorry. He was a fill in, my regular..." apologized Lizzy. 

Lex interrupted with, "Yes, yes. That's fine. I just want to know his name." 

"He says his name is Clark Sullivan. Are you sure everything is okay, sir?" 

"Yes. Fine. Do you think he'd agree to come see me? Here?" 

Lizzy took a breath. "Oh. I don't know. I can ask." 

"Please do." And he dismissed her with a wave of his hand as she nodded and left the room. 

Lex turned to the bar and poured himself a drink. He gulped it and poured another. He was still holding the glass and staring thoughtfully at the wall when the knock sounded at his door again. 

~~++~~ 

Clark practically ran from the stage. That was probably the worst experience of his life. Compared to that, facing Smallville and his friends would be easy. He sat in front of the mirror with his head in his hands. He was still sitting like that when Lizzy walked in. 

"Clark?" 

"Lizzy, I think tonight was it. I'm going home." 

She nodded and then asked, with nothing to lose, "One more favor then? You remember the special client I told you about? I received a special request to see you, privately." 

Clark looked horrified. "See me? I don't...I...Why?" 

"Nothing is going to happen. I'll go with you. I'm sure it's just to tell you how well you did." She tried to smile reassuringly. "It's okay, Clark. You did amazingly well. If I thought I could talk you into doing this on a regular basis, I would try." 

"No. I'm going home," he said firmly, shaking his head. 

"But will you do this? Just come see the client and I'll pay you for tonight. If you need to get away, or whatever this was, again, you can always come dance for us." She smiled again. 

Clark nodded and stood up to follow. He looked down at his clothes, and asked, "Think I should change?" 

"No way! Remember? I told you, you look amazing!" 

Blushing, Clark followed Lizzy through the back of the club, up some stairs and through a darkened hallway. She knocked lightly on the door as Clark took a deep breath and held it. 

She opened the door and stepped inside. Grabbing Clark's arm, she dragged him behind her and said, "Sir? He's here." 

Frantic thoughts ran through Clark's mind. "Sir? Did she just say SIR?" 

The man turned around, but Clark had already guessed from the back of his head. He would recognize it anywhere. He wanted to turn and zip from the room, but he felt rooted to the spot. 

"Clark?" 

"Lex?" 

Lizzy raised an eyebrow. "You know each other?" 

Clark and Lex stared at each other. Eyes locked. The silence filled the small room and Lizzy shifted her feet, uncomfortable. Lex finally said, "Thank you. I think that's all." 

"Clark? Are you going to be okay? I won't leave if you don't want me to..." 

He didn't look at her, but spoke quickly. "No, Lizzy. I think I'll be fine." 

She opened her mouth to try to make sure, but nothing came out and she closed the door as she backed out of the room. She shook her head as she made her way backstage. 

Clark and Lex stared at each other until they spoke at the same time, "What are you doing here?" 

Lex smiled. "I really think you should answer first, Clark. Do you do this a lot?" 

Almost shouting, "No!" Clark answered, "I just needed to get away for a while. There was something at school and I couldn't deal." 

"So you came to Gotham to work in a strip club?" 

"That wasn't really the plan. But Lizzy didn't ask questions about my age and I was working security. Before." 

"How did you end up on stage?" Lex lifted the glass to his lips and drained the amber liquid. 

"She cried. She was worried about her 'special client' and the regular guy was sick. And she was sobbing, and I just couldn't tell her no." 

"Ahh." He turned back around to the bar and poured himself another drink. 

"And what are you doing here, Lex?" 

"I...I guess my story isn't as simple. But it's kind of the same. I needed to get away, too. The plant...My father...Just everything." 

"Uh huh. And specifically, here?" 

Whispering now, Lex answered, "I wanted a distraction." 

Clark took a step towards Lex. "You're watching men dance and strip. You're calling that a distraction?" Another step. Lex's back was still to him, rigidly straight. A slight nod this time for an answer. 

He watched Lex's hands shake the glass in them. "Do you do this a lot, Lex? Watch men?" 

He didn't catch the answer; too low. He was right behind Lex now. He watched his shoulders move with his breathing. "What?" he brushed Lex's back with his hand, feeling the tension there. 

"Lex?" whispered Clark. He tugged on Lex's arm to turn him. Lex slowly turned around and looked up into Clark's eyes. 

"I said, 'There's this one I watch a lot.'" 

Clark's hand was still on Lex's arm. He sucked in a breath and opened his mouth to ask another question, but the words wouldn't come out. Instead, he leaned down and brushed his lips to Lex's. 

Lex groaned at the feather-light touch and leaned up, greedily taking control of the kiss, sliding his hands around Clark's waist and tugging him closer. He felt the tip of Clark's tongue tentatively lick his lip and he opened to allow Clark to do whatever he wanted. Their tongues twined together and Lex moaned in the back of his throat. 

The broke apart, staring at each other, panting. 

Lex groaned again and turned away. "Clark, this is why I had to get away. I wanted this too much. We can't do this. There are so many things here that can get us into trouble." 

"Why is that wrong? Lex, I want this. I..." He reached out his hand and touched Lex's arm. "Lex?" 

He turned back to Clark and stared at him. "You want this? Me?" His voice was shaky, unfamiliar to Clark. Confidence usually exuded from every part of him. Clark met his eyes and nodded. He stepped closer and pulled Lex to him. 

"How could I not?" Clark bent down and met Lex's lips again and wrapped his arms around him. 

Lex melted into Clark, molded to his body, his hands on Clark's chest. He ran his hands up Clark's chest and fumbled for the buttons. Frantically, he tugged at them, as he made noises in the back of his throat. 

Lex finally got the first few open and pulled his mouth from Clark's. He followed the line of Clark's jaw with a trail of kisses down to his throat, sucking on the pulse there. Clark moaned tilted his head back, eyes closed, hands on Lex's waist. 

"Lex," Clark moaned. "Are we...uh...um...doing this here? Oh God..." 

He nodded, "I don't care. Anywhere. Want you too much to care." 

A thrill shot through Clark. And he let Lex take over, giving himself up. 

Lex pushed Clark back to the small couch that practically filled the tiny room, unbuttoned the jeans, and freed Clark's already hard cock. He stared, taking his fill of the sight. Clark opened his eyes and looked down at Lex, gasped, and thrust his hips forward into air. 

Lex smiled, glanced up at Clark and their eyes held for a second before Lex bent and licked. The salty, bitter taste covered his tongue and he moaned. 

He drew the head into his mouth and let his tongue gather more of that taste as he reached in to grasp the base of Clark's cock in one hand. With the other hand, he folded more of the jeans down, exposing more of Clark's skin. 

Clark was making the most erotic sounds Lex had ever heard. Little grunts and moans mixed with his name in a throaty, breathy voice he'd never heard before. The noises were almost too much for him. He was already hard and aching. 

He took more of Clark's cock into his mouth, ran his tongue along the underside and sucked harder. Lex felt Clark's fingers trail across his scalp as he worked his mouth farther down, taking as much of the hard cock into his mouth as he could. 

Clark's thighs began to shake and his pelvis came off the couch as he let out a loud groan. He shouted Lex's name as he came. 

Lex looked up at him as he leaned back on his heals, Clark panted with his eyes closed and Lex grinned. His gorgeous farmboy, ravished and debauched. 

He stood up and straddled Clark's lap, rubbing himself on the hard thigh. Clark's eyes flew open and he reached out to drag Lex closer. "Mmm...Lex. Never imagined..." 

Lex just moaned and thrust harder against him. Clark reached up to cup Lex through his tailored slacks, got his name called in response. "Lex, do you want my mouth? My hand?" he whispered. 

Lex was too needy to answer. He just rocked against the hand cupping him desperately. Clark groaned and reached his other hand to unfasten Lex's pants and pulled him free. He worked his hand along the shaft. The skin there was unfamiliar, yet so like his own. Hard unyielding flesh, but so soft and warm. He fit his hand around tightly and moved it up and down the length as he covered Lex's mouth with his own, tasting himself there. He slipped his tongue in as Lex clung to his arms. 

The cock in Clark's hand trembled, then covered his fingers as Lex moaned into his mouth. 

Their kiss became less urgent and finally they pulled away. Clark grinned. He brought his come-covered hand to his mouth and tasted it. Lex looked around, found some napkins that had been left on the bar and wiped things up. "Come back to my hotel with me tonight. I'll take you back to Smallville in the morning." 

Clark nodded and reached down to fasten his jeans. "I have to get my stuff from the room. Do you have the limo?" 

"I'm parked in the back. I have the Ferrari." 

"In this neighborhood?" Clark grinned. "Meet you there in ten minutes. Have to find Lizzy, too. Let her know I'm going." 

Lex nodded at Clark stood. He captured Lex's mouth in a sloppy kiss and turned to go. 

Lex looked around the room as he absently buttoned his pants, grinning like a fool. Coming to Gotham had never been this fun. He studied himself in the mirror above the bar and almost couldn't believe the sight that greeted him. The schooled look that was usually on his face had been replaced by one Lex thought was years gone. 

Happiness? He almost didn't remember what that looked like on his features. 

He gathered his coat and small briefcase and looked around the room one last time. The glass on the bar, the mess of napkins in the trash, nothing else left as evidence of him being there. He turned and left, down the stairs and out the back entrance to his car. Getting in, he started the engine and waited for Clark. 

~~++~~ 

Clark left the room and navigated the maze of hallways to the room he'd changed in earlier. After putting his own clothes back on, he heard a light knock and looked up to see Lizzy walking in the room. She had an envelope in her hand that she held out to him. "Everything okay?" she asked. 

Clark blushed slightly and nodded. He could tell she wanted to ask more, but thankfully she didn't. "Thanks for the job and everything..." 

She pressed the extended envelope into his hand and interrupted, "I should be thanking you. I was in a real bind tonight. Take care, Clark, and if you need to come back, for any reason..." 

Clark nodded. "Thanks, Lizzy." 

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed out of the room to the back door to the waiting car, and Lex. 


End file.
